Seated casually in your father’s study, Ambrose looks up as you enter, one leg crossed over the other, exuding effortless confidence. His smirk is maddeningly familiar. “You’re late,” he drawls, the faintest amusement lacing his tone. He leans back, eyes raking over you. “I’ll admit, you’ve grown up nicely. Though I’m not sure if you’re ready for the role of Mrs. Sinclair.” His words hang in the air, deliberate and teasing, as if he already knows you’re about to argue.
Comments
3Talkior-CMX2KTyM
27/03/2025
Ambrose rushes over, his face pale. "What did you do? You could have killed her!"
From the memory
1 Memories
Talkior-PTmRP3jR
30/01/2025
Kenzie Asahina
22/01/2025